


Micah of Brightmoon

by Bookwormpride



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Beast Island is a Prison, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Glimmers POVs aren't linear btw, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Just so no ones confused, Micah Basically Adopts Catra, Micah is a Good Dad, Reunions, Shadow Weaver is mentioned, The title is from the 80s She Ra but thats about it lmaoooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwormpride/pseuds/Bookwormpride
Summary: Glimmer lives with the memory of dad.Catra finds herself imprisoned on Beast Island with a cellmate she just might have something in common with.





	Micah of Brightmoon

Glimmer remembered the last time she ever saw her father. He had been suited up in shining armor adorned with the Brightmoon crest, his staff at his side, and his smile for her was just as bright as always. When he hugged her the metal of his armor sleeves had dug into her back uncomfortably.

He scooped her up to rest on his hip. “I’m going to be gone for a few weeks, you’ll be good for your mom, right?”

Glimmer giggled as she vigorously shook her head no. Micah laughed and pressed his forehead to hers, brown eyes gleaming with amusement meeting pink. Glimmer placed her tiny hands on his cheeks, his dark beard rough under her palms.

“Didn’t think so,” He admitted. “I love you, my little angel.”

“Love you, daddy,” She muttered.

Her mom had joined them, taking Glimmer from Micahs arms and kissing him.

“Be _careful_ ,” Angella had stressed, her tone giving away her underlying anxiety despite her carefully neutral expression.

“Aren’t I always?” Micah said sweetly.

“Never,” Angella scoffed.

Micah grinned mischievously and summoned his staff from where he left it standing on it’s own behind him. He leaned in to press a kiss to Glimmers forehead and to Angellas cheek.

He marched out with the rest of the Brightmoon troops, indistinguishable amongst their ranks, in that moment a fellow soldier rather then their king.

A few nights later Glimmer woke with a deep sense that something was wrong. She climbed from her bed and searched for her mom in all the usual places, finding her in the council chambers, the door open just a crack. Inside, a guard spoke in a grim voice.

Glimmer watched her mom fell to her knees, a ragged cry somewhere between a sob and a scream ripped from her throat.

When she noticed her in the doorway a few minutes later Angella had taken Glimmer into her arms and, through her tears, explained.

Her father wasn’t coming back.

 

The first thing Catra became aware of as she regained consciousness was _pain_. Her head pounded like something inside was trying to beat its way out, every part of her ached as if she had come out of a vicious battle, and her lungs burned with each breath.

Opening her eyes she found her vision blurry. An undefined figure leaned over her. She tried to move, to defend herself, to at least _sit up_ \- but her body felt like it was made of lead, heavy and useless.

“Take it easy,” An unfamiliar man's voice said, quiet and pacifying. “It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slowly her last memory came back to her - gasping, a glowing ring of energy above her, Hordak, she _couldn’t breathe_.

Catra took a rasping breath as if to make sure she still could.

She startled when she felt a hand slip under her head, lifting it. She tried to hiss, but it came out as more of pathetic wheeze.

The rim of a cup pressed to her lips. Instinctively she opened to drink, gulping down the water that was trickled into her mouth, soothing the roughness in her throat. After a moment she was able to prop herself up on her elbows, feeling hard stone beneath her.

As her vision began to clear she focused on the man taking care of her. He was thin, with dark, shallow eyes, gray hair with streaks of black hinting at its original color and a beard to match. He watched her with concern, a frown deepening the wrinkles in his face.

When the cup was empty he took it away. “Better?” He asked.

Catra eyed him uneasily for a moment before looking around. The room looked like a mixture of an ancient ruin and a Horde cell - walls and floors made of concrete, a doorway covered by a glowing green forcefield, and a small window in the opposite wall crisscrossed with lines of the same energy.

“Where…?” She croaked, her voice scratchy and barely above a whisper.

“Beast Island,” The man said grimmly.

Catra’s sharp inhale turned into a cough. She clutched at her chest as she tried to catch her breath. The man placed a hand between her shoulder blades to support her. She pulled away from his touch.

“Who are you? Get away from me,” She snapped, but it sounded more _scared_ than scary.

“I’m Micah,” He pacified. “I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you but considering where we are,” He glanced around their cell with a bitter smirk. “I doubt you’d agree.”

* * *

 Glimmer just wanted dinner to be finished as quickly as possible so they could get back to their vacation, but Adora and Aunt Castaspella had other plans.

As Aunt Casta willed a bowl of carrots towards her Adora sunk down until her nose was level with the table for a closer look, wide eyes full of wonder watching the bowl float past her. Casta, of course, was always happy for the opportunity to impress someone with her magic.

“That’s amazing,” Adora awed, straightening in her chair once Casta picked up the bowl with an extra flourish and the meal resumed. “How did you become a sorceress?”

“Years of training, dear,” Casta said sagely. Glimmer nearly rolled her eyes at the dramatic response before her aunt added, “Actually, my brother, Micah, taught me most of what I know.”

“Glimmers dad? He could do magic?” Adora asked, surprised, looking between Glimmer and Casta for confirmation.

“Oh yes,” Casta said. “He was a brilliant sorcerer, powerful, quick. I learned more from him then I ever did from any of my many teachers here in Mystacor.”

“What was he like?” Adora asked softly.

Glimmer froze with a forkful half to her mouth at the unexpected question. She looked up at Aunt Casta through her eyelashes with apprehension.

“He was a troublemaker,” Aunt Casta said with a fond laugh, waving her hand dismissively. “I can’t _tell_ you all the messes he got into, and dragged me with him! He was so reckless and unruly and… well,” She sighed, her smile becoming wistful. “He was a free spirit. He hated to be told _no_. He wanted adventure, to do something _great_ , and Mystacor just... wasn’t big enough for him.”

“But he was _good_ ,” She continued fiercely. “He was brave and kind and- and he always wanted to do what was _right_ , he couldn’t stand to see injustice, or anyone hurt. He was one of the first to stand up to the Horde, and convince everyone to fight back.”

Aunt Casta nodded thoughtfully as she continued, her eyes distant. “I admired him a lot growing up,” She said. “I wanted to be just like him, I was probably annoying,” She gave a small chuckle. “Following him around and pestering him to show me advanced spells, but he never got mad - when I messed up, when I didn’t catch on as fast as him; One time I burned his eyebrows off when a spell backfired and he just laughed, he was so patient, and then, when I got something right he acted like I had single handedly invented magic every time, he was so happy for me. I wouldn’t be the sorceress I am today without him.”

Glimmer stared at her half-eaten plate and tried to swallow around the lump in her throat, blinking away the sudden wetness in her eyes. She imagined, not for the first time, what it would have been like to have her dad there as she learned to use her powers - a steadying hand on hers as she practiced making balls of light, kind words erasing any embarrassment over mistakes, how he would have smiled, how her mom might have actually _laughed_ -

Glimmer pushed the thought away, discreetly wiping her eyes. Her dad _hadn’t_ been there, and Glimmer had learned on her own, and she was determined to take her self taught powers and finish what he started.

 

Catra wished she could have been given a less friendly cellmate.

Micah continued to check on her even once she recovered from her asphyxiation, he was chatty even when she refused to respond, and he liked to whistle way too-cheerful melodies in the silence. From what Catra could tell he had been on Beast Island a long time, maybe he was lonely, but she would have preferred he just go crazy like he said other prisoners had rather then bother her.

Catra sighed as she looked down at her empty dinner tray, having already finished the small plate of mush and the rock-hard bread they received once a day - keeping them too weak to fight, she assumed.

Micah slid up next to her against the wall. “Here,” He offered, holding out his own bread to her.

Catra sneered and pushed her tray back towards the door to indicate she was finished, pulling her knees up to her chest and folding her arms over them.

“So, how’d you get here?”

Catra glowered at him.

He shrugged. “You’re pretty young, how old are you? Sixteen, seventeen?”

“I’m nineteen,” Catra corrected, turning away in hopes he would get the hint and leave her alone.

She heard him hum. “I’ve got a daughter almost that age,” He said, a touch of sadness in his voice. “It just doesn’t seem right that someone your age is here. You should be out there with your friends, and family...”

“Don’t have any,” Catra said simply.

“No family?” Micah asked, sounding skeptical.

“Nope.”

“And no friends?” He pressed.

“No,” Catra insisted.

“Well, I can’t imagine _why,_  you’re _so_ friendly,” Micah said sarcastically.

Catra whipped around to snarl at him. He didn’t even flinch. “I’m not _here_ to be your _friend_ ,” She snarled, settling back against the wall and looking away again. “And you should consider yourself lucky that I’m here instead of who they were gonna send.”

“So, if they were going to send someone else,” Micah said slowly. “Why are _you_ here?”

Catra growled, her hand balling into fists so tight her claws bit into her hands painfully. “Because she _escaped_!” Catra exclaimed, her voice rising as she ranted. “Because I _let her escape_ , she- she _tricked_ me! I thought- I just- I just wanted-“

Catra stopped herself as her voice began to break with emotion. She wasn’t going to let her new cellmate see her cry, wouldn’t show him any kind of weakness he could exploit.

She felt a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry,” Micah said gently.

Catra gave a hard laugh. “It’s my own fault for thinking Shadow Weaver would ever _care_ about me,” She muttered cynically.

Micah pulled back with a choked sound. Catra looked at him with an eyebrow quirked in question.

“Hah- _Shadow Weaver,_ she- _she_ was supposed to be here?” He stuttered, seemingly torn between amused and offended.

Catra gave him a sidelong look, feigning indifference to hide her curiosity. “Yeah, you know her?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, yeah a long time ago, she was my… teacher,” He hesitated on the word as if he wasn’t sure it was right.  “Wow,” He breathed, letting his head fall back, his expression dazed as he processed the information. “How is old Shadow Weaver?” He asked.

“Old, manipulative, horrible,” Catra listed.

Micah laughed for real this time. “So not much has changed,” He summed up. “Well, I _do_ prefer having you as a cellmate to _her_ , but I’m sorry, again, that she tricked you,” He said quietly. “She used me too, I- I get it.”

At the words Catra felt a swell of emotion in her chest that wanted to burst forth in the form of wretched sobs and hot tears and angry curses. She didn’t want his _pity_ , but at the same time his kindness made her feel like something inside of her was threatening to break and spill all the hurt she kept carefully tucked away. She wanted to tell Micah that there was no way he could understand what she went through, and yet she wondered what Shadow Weaver had done to him, if maybe there was a chance that he _did_ understand.

She scoffed. “Whatever, I don’t care what that old hag does, I just- I’m just mad cause now I’m in here instead of her.”

Micah gave her a skeptical look that Catra ignored. She busied herself with unfolding the thin blanket the prison provided and pretending to settle in to sleep, laying on her side facing the wall, her arm under her head as a pillow.

She felt Micah watching her for a long moment after she shut her eyes, but then she heard his footsteps as he crossed the room and knew she was as alone as she would ever be in this cell.

* * *

 

Glimmer was awoken by the sound of her bedroom door creaking open and near-silent footsteps making their way across the floor. She sat up, looking over the edge of her bed to find Adora climbing the floating stairs.

“Adora?” Glimmer mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Adora started, and when she looked up Glimmer could see dried tear tracks on her cheeks in the moonlight coming through her windows.

“Hey, come here,” She called, reaching for Adoras hand to help her onto the bed and moving over to make room as she crawled on. “What’s wrong?”

Adora gulped. “I had a bad dream and when I w-woke up it was really dark in my room and… the shadows looked…”

Glimmer felt her heart squeeze sympathetically. It was Adoras first night back in Brightmoon since Shadow Weaver took her, of course she was having a hard time sleeping after what happened the last time she was alone in her room.

Adora looked like she was on the verge of tears again, and Glimmer quickly pulled her into a hug, comforting herself just as much as she was Adora.

She had been so scared they had lost her for good.

“It’s okay,” She soothed, feeling Adora trembling against her. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t believe she...” Adora whispered.

“I know,” Glimmer agreed, rubbing her back.

“And I-”

“I know,” Glimmer repeated.

“I keep seeing her in the dark,” Adora said, her voice muffled by Glimmers shoulder. “Like- like she’s still here.”

At that Glimmer got an idea. She pulled out of their embrace. “Hold on.”

Focusing, she summoned a ball of sparkling light to form between her hands, swelling until she was satisfied with its size, and then she tossed it into the air above them, illuminating her bedroom in a dim pink light.

“Whoa,” Adora breathed, looking up at the makeshift night light.

“That should keep the shadows away,” Glimmer said.

Adora looked at her with eyes that were suddenly wet again, but this time she gave a shaky smile. “Thanks, Glimmer.”

As they laid down together in her bed gazing up at the shimmering light Glimmer felt a smile of her own tugging at her lips, and a memory that she hadn’t planned on sharing pouring from her mouth unprompted.

“When I was little I was scared of the dark,” She said, her tone hushed, as if telling a secret. “So every night after tucking me in my dad would sit on my bed and ask me ‘what do you want to protect you tonight?’ And then he would make a light illusion of whatever I wanted, like a dog or something, so it wasn’t so dark, and the thing would run around my room while I went to sleep...”

Adoras head rolled to the side to meet her eyes in the low light. “That sounds really nice,” she said.

Glimmer gave an airy laugh. “Yeah, it was pretty great.”

Her dad had always had a way of making her feel safe, whether it was with an embrace that made her feel like nothing could touch her as long as she was in his arms, or gentle reasoning, or a bit of magic conjured just for her. He always knew just what to do to make Glimmers fears disappear.

She hadn’t thought about those light illusions in years. After her dad was killed she outgrew her fear of the dark as the real world became much scarier than any imagined monsters hiding in her room, and he was no longer there to protect her from any of it.

 

Days on Beast Island were bad. The nights were infinitely worse.

Once daylight turned to dark outside the cells window and the prison lights dimmed for sleep the cold of the stone floor beneath her seemed to suck any warmth from Catras body and left her shivering under her useless blanket. The screams of fellow prisoners mingled with the roars from the creatures outside the prison walls, creating a terrifying cacophony that jolted her awake every time she got close to sleep.

And in the dark Catra was forced to face the reality of her situation.

“ _I_ _heard he got banished to Beast Island_ ,” She remember Lonnie gossiping in the locker room many years before. The rest of the cadets had shifted nervously, exchanging fearful glances with one another.

“ _I don’t think anyone knows what happens to them, but they’re never seen again,_ ” Adora’s grim voice whispered in their bunk back in the Fright Zone echoed in Catras mind.

 _“Being sent there is supposed to be a fate worse than death_ ,” Scorpia had said, lacking her usual positivity because even she understood the seriousness of the sentence.

Catras own words taunted her, _“they go and they never come back.”_

She was on Beast Island.

Where no one ever returned from.

She was going to live out the rest of her life in a tiny stone cell, cold and hungry and alone with no hope of ever going back home - or anywhere else.

Outside a particularly loud screech from some unknown beast caused Catra to jump before she curled in on herself tighter, shuddering and pulling the blanket up to her chin, her eyes squeezed shut.

A moment later she was startled again when a hand touched her arm. She tensed, claws extending in defense until she saw it was Micah, who was now leaning back with his hands up.

“Hey, it’s alright,” He appeased. “I just wanted to see if you were okay, I could see you shaking from across the room.”

“I’m fine,” Catra snapped, but her quivering voice gave away the lie.

“You know, the animals outside can’t hurt us,” Micah told her. “They’re just there to stop anyone that tries to escape, as long as we’re in here we’re safe.”

“Got it,” Catra said tersely.

It was quiet. Then Catra felt a weight settle on her. She looked down to find Micah draping his blanket over her.

“What about you?” She asked uncertainly.

He winked. “I’ve got magic,” He reminded her. “I can keep myself warm. At one point I could’ve warmed this whole cell, but…” He trailed off with a defeated sigh.

Catra hesitated for only a moment longer before she pulled the blanket tighter around her.

She waited until Micah was back on his side of the room before she muttered, “Thanks.”

She could hear the smile in his voice as he answered, “Don’t mention it.”

* * *

 

Glimmer had barely teleported her and Adora into the throne room before she began announcing: “Now presenting...” She paused for dramatic effect as her mom looked up from the paperwork she had been reading on her throne. “Your daughter, and her best friend, ready for their first Princess Prom!” She squealed, throwing her hands up and twirling while Adora looked on, appearing bewildered by the display.

Angella rose from her seat, a soft smile on her lips. “You both look wonderful,” She said.

“Do you like my dress?” Glimmer asked, swaying slightly to make the full skirt swish around her legs.

“Very much,” Angella confirmed. “Do you have everything you need? Have you recharged today?”

“Yep!” Glimmer assured her. She looked behind her. “Hey Adora, would you mind waiting outside? I’ll only be a minute.”

Looking almost relieved for permission to go Adora stepped outside, leaving Glimmer and her mom alone.

Angella approached her, laying a hand on Glimmers shoulder. “You look beautiful,” She said tenderly. “And so grown up, I can hardly believe you’re going to your first All Princess Ball.”

“Me either,” Glimmer admitted. “I’m so excited!”

Angella smiled. “I remember my first Princess Ball,” She said. “It felt like the most important night of my life at the time.”

Glimmer snickered mischievously. “Was that the one where dad spiked the punch?”

“He did not _‘spike the punch_ ,’” Angella said disapprovingly. “It was simply mislabeled. But no, that was the year after he and I married when it was Brightmoons turn to host the ball.”

Her expression turned nostalgic as she tucked a piece of Glimmers hair back into place. “Other then the drink mishap he was a very good co-host,” She said. “Gracious, attentive, enthusiastic... he was always better at throwing parties then I was, our Princess Ball would not have been such a success without him.”

“Did you guys dance?” Glimmer asked softly, leaning into her mom's hand as it cupped her cheek. She couldn’t imagine her mom dancing.

“Yes,” Angella said. “Your father was  _quite_ the dance partner.”

Glimmer chuckled as she pictured it, but as her thoughts turned to the present night she frowned and deflated, suddenly feeling heavy. She wished he could be there to see her off as well.

“He would have said you looked gorgeous,” Angella said, knowing exactly what Glimmer was thinking. “And he would have demanded a dance with you before you left.”

Glimmer let herself see it for a moment, her dad twirling her around the throne room, his hands pulling her back every time she spun out too far, both of them laughing and her mom watching with an amused smile, him waving when she turned to look back in the doorway.

She took a deep breath, and put on a smile. “Alright, well, we’ll be back by morning,” Glimmer joked.

“You’ll be back by eleven,” Her mom said sternly.

“Yeah yeah, eleven,” Glimmer grumbled, standing on tiptoes to press a kiss to her mom's cheek. “Love you!”

And with that she teleported out of the room as quickly as she had teleported in.

 

Catra accepted the leftover slop that Micah slid her way when she finished hers.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

The question had been on the tip of her tongue in the weeks since she got there. Micah was constantly kind, giving her his food because he insisted she needed it more then him, telling off a guard that threatened her, speaking to her even when she didn’t talk back and she had to admit it did make her feel less lonely. She had even caught him brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face one time when he thought she was asleep (she had kept her eyes shut and pretended not to notice because if she had acknowledged it she would have had to face the feelings that it made stir in her chest).

It didn’t make sense. There was nothing in it for him. On Beast Island no one had any more power or privilege then anyone else, there was nothing being friends with Catra could do for him. She had made it clear she couldn’t help him in any way, had made it even clearer that she wouldn’t even if she could. And yet, his generosity continued.

Micah laughed. “Has no one ever been nice to you before?”

Catra looked at him expectantly.

“I mean, besides being a decent human being,” He quipped. “I guess when I first saw you, and that you were so young, I just thought, if that was my daughter I’d want someone to take care of her, to be nice to her.”

He shrugged. “It’s not fair that either of us are here, the least I can do is make it a little easier for you, and maybe keep my… my sense of... _humanity_ in the process.”

Catra continued to stare at him, searching his face and body language for some sign that he was lying, and finding none. He was sincere, and Catra still didn’t understand.

Finishing what Micah had given her of his dinner she sat back. “So, you’re obviously not from the Horde...” She noted.

He shook his head, but he didn’t look offended. “No.”

“So where _are_ you from?”

It wasn’t that she cared, she told herself, but if he insisted on chattering constantly the least she could do was give him something to talk about, and maybe if she knew more about him she could see his intentions a little clearer.

“Mystacor, originally,” He said, leaning against the wall beside the window, looking out. “That’s where I met _you-know-who_ ,” He flashed a sarcastic smirk at Catra. She didn’t smile back.

He continued, “Then Brightmoon, when I married my wife.”

“You’re from _Brightmoon_?”

She was filled with a creeping suspicion, a horrible recognition she hadn’t noticed before but now seemed as clear as day - his face, his attitude, his annoying optimism - ‘ _earnest, naive_ ’ she had once described it herself.

“Your daughter,” She demanded, almost frenziedly. “What’s her name?”

“Glimmer,” He said with an adoring smile, not noticing the shift in Catras mood - the tension suddenly hunching her shoulders, the distraught look on her face.

Catra felt like she had been punched in the gut.

There was no way there was more the one _Glimmer_ out there, and certainly not in Brightmoon, and _definitely_ not with such similar features to her cellmate.

That meant-

He was-

“She had just turned five when I was captured, so she should be- uh, Catra?” Micah asked when he looked over to find her with an expression full of resentment. “What's wrong?”

Catra couldn’t find the words, didn’t even know what she wanted to say if she could.

It was like watching She-Ra detransform into Adora and meeting eyes with her through the smoke, it was like showing up at Shadow Weavers cell to find a mirage and a ring of magic on the floor, it was like going in to Hordaks chambers in hopes of impressing him to find he was already prepared to dispose of her. It was like waking up in a cell because he _had_ disposed of her.

She had begun to trust Micah, had started to think that maybe there were worse people she could have been imprisoned with, and now she was finding out that he was the king of Brightmoon, the father of Princess Glimmer.

Glimmer, who she had spent the past months viciously fighting. Glimmer, who had taken the one person she ever loved from her and turned her life upside down. Glimmer, who Adora had _left her for._

When Catra thought about it she had often traced all of her misfortune back to Glimmer and the other one, Bow. They were the source of her pain, of why her life had taken the turn it did. And now she could see another string, connecting it back to Micah as well - for creating Glimmer in the first place, for getting taken and leaving Glimmer to lead the rebellion, for being who he was and passing that on to his daughter.

“Catra?”

Micah's call snapped her out of her reprieve. She glared at him.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” She said venomously through gritted teeth.

“You look like you’re gonna-”

“I said _I’m fine_!” She shouted.

She wanted to feel a satisfaction in the hurt that flashed across his face, but even as it did she still only felt the too-familiar sting of betrayal settling in once again.

* * *

 

Glimmer remembered running into her dads study, thick tears rolling down her cheeks.

“ _Daaa-ddy_ ,” she wailed, circling the desk by the window to grab him by the hand and attempt to pull him to his feet. “Come here, come here!”

“What’s wrong, my little angel?” He asked, leaning down to look her in the eye.

“I b-broke Auntie Casta’s hourglass,” She explained.

“Are you hurt?” He asked anxiously, turning her hands over in his and reaching down to pull her skirt up and examine her knees.

“N-no,” She hiccuped.

Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t injured he scooped her up and took her back to her room where the hourglass, a gift from her Aunt Casta, had been placed on a shelf that had been out of Glimmers reach - until she had pushed the stool from her vanity underneath it.

“Aw Glimmer,” Her dad sighed as he took in the mess that had been the hourglass, it’s shimmering pink sands enchanted to flow up instead of down when turned over now dusted the floor intermingled with shards of glass.

“If you wanted to see it you could have asked me or your mom to get it down for you,” He scolded lightly as he walked over the glass and placed her on the window seat. “No more climbing on furniture, okay? You could get hurt.”

Glimmer nodded jerkily, nose still stuffed up from crying. She watched as her dad grabbed the garbage can and realized what he was going to do.

“You have to _fix it_!” She cried out in panic as he stooped to start picking up glass.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I don’t know how,” He said sadly. “This isn’t my kinda magic.”

Glimmers eyes started to water again. “B-but Auntie Casta gave it to me for my birf’day! And she’s going to be _really_ mad I broke it,” She began to blubber. “And she’ll never give me anything ever again, and she’ll _hate_ me!”

She started crying again, big sobs shaking her tiny body, until she felt her dads hand on her knee and opened her eyes to see him kneeling in front of her.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” She said quietly, sniffling.

“I know,” He said, reaching up to wipe her cheeks with his finger. “It was an accident, right?”

She nodded.

“And you feel really bad, right?”

She nodded again.

He gave a caring smile. “Then your Aunt Casta isn’t going to be mad, and she _definitely_ won’t hate you,” He said with a small chuckle. “You made a mistake, _everyone_ makes mistakes, me, your mom, your Aunt Casta - your Aunt Casta makes _tons_ of mistakes,” He snickered at this before sobering. “You know what you do when you make a mistake?” He asked her.

Glimmer shook her head, listening with wide eyes.

“First, you learn from it. What did you learn from breaking the hourglass?” He asked.

“Not- not to climb on- on furniture,” She said. “And to ask you or mommy if I want to see something.”

“Good,” He praised. “The next thing you do is you apologize if your mistake hurt someone. You think Aunt Castas feelings might be hurt that you broke her gift, yeah? So how do you want to apologize to her?”

“I can- I can write her a letter!” Glimmer said after a moment of thought. “And I can tell her I’m _reeeally_ sorry!”

“That’s a great idea! You can also ask her if there’s anything you can do to make it up to her, to show that you really mean your apology and want to make her feel better,” Her dad said. “And the last thing you need to do… is forgive yourself.”

Glimmer looked surprised. Her dad got up from where he was crouched in front of her to sit on the window seat as well, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Sometimes that’s the hardest part about dealing with a mistake. Sometimes you keep feeling bad about it, even after you’ve learned and apologized,” He said. “But feeling bad isn’t going to make the mistake not have happened, it’s just going to make you sad. So, maybe you need to remind yourself that the mistake you made isn’t who you are, like, you’re not an hourglass breaker, are you?” He asked with a playful grin.

Glimmer giggled and shook her head.

“Of course not! You’re Glimmer!” He exclaimed. “And you’re really good at drawing, and you always make your mom laugh, and you’re the best hide and seek player I’ve ever known! And you love when the tickle monster gets you!”

Suddenly he pulled Glimmer into his lap, causing her to squeal and squirm as he tickled her sides. Once he stopped and they both settled from laughing he continued.

“See? You’re so much more than someone that broke an hourglass that I can think of at least a _hundred_ other things about you that are way more important.”

That night he helped her write a letter to Auntie Casta and send it off, and a few days later Glimmer got a reply in the form of a package with a note tied to the deep purple ribbon. Auntie Casta said she wasn’t mad and was instead glad that Glimmer had told her. And inside the box was a new hourglass with it’s pink and yellow sands falling upwards.

 

It was hard to stay mad at someone in a twelve by twelve foot cell.

Once the initial shock of finding out who Micah was faded, and the hurt and anger along with it, Catra actually found herself feeling _more_ comfortable around him. She understood him, knew what his intentions were and, just like his daughter, they were nothing but irritatingly pure and good.

Going through her morning exercise routine that she had created so she wouldn’t fall out of shape with inactivity Micah watched her and counted push ups, as he had begun to do shortly after she first arrived.

“Okay, that’s ten more than yesterday, take it easy,” He encouraged when Catra pushed herself past her typical set and her arms began to visibly shake.

Catra collapsed on the cool floor, panting, and rolled onto her back. “I never thought I’d say it, but I _miss_ Horde training,” She groaned. Despite the daily exercise she could feel herself weakening, her muscles losing mass, and her stamina shortening. She longed for the satisfying ache in her limbs after a rough simulation, for the true test of her heightened reflexes on a mission.

“Oh yeah? What was your weapon of choice?” He asked.

Catra raised a hand with claws detracted. “My own two hands,” She gloated. “You fought. What about you?”

“Magic,” He said with equal pride. “But I had a staff I was pretty good with too.”

“Please,” She dismissed. “I bet I coulda kicked your ass.”

“Ha! Back when I was fighting you wouldn’t have stood a chance!” Micah insisted. “Or maybe... we wouldn’t have fought at all and you could have joined the rebellion.”

Catra snorted. “Okay, now you’re talking crazy.”

“Why not? You _never_ thought about leaving the Horde?” He asked doubtfully.

“No,” she said stubbornly. “Why would I wanna join the _losing_ side?”

“Well,” he ventured. “Why would you want to stay with the side that hurts people, that’s hurt _you_?”

“And the rebellion doesn’t hurt people?” Catra sneered. “The world isn’t all moonlight and roses, I would think you would have gotten that by now. All you have is _yourself_ , and if you’re too weak to protect yourself then - then that's your problem, no one is going to save you. The rebellion is full of sappy chumps who believe the _power of love_ can save the world and they’re going to be destroyed because of it. The Horde is strong, _I’m_ strong.”

Micah watched her rant with a raised eyebrow, waiting a moment to make sure she was finished before he said, almost boredly, “That sounds like a whole lotta Shadow Weaver talking.”

Catra gaped.

“You’re right, the world _isn’t_ all moonlight and roses,” Micah continued. “But it isn’t all doom and gloom like _some people_ would have you believe. There’s goodness out there - there are people that help each other, and little kids laughing, and friends hugs. And there _is_ love. And the Horde wants to get rid of all that. But don’t you think it would be nice to live in a world where you could count on others when you’re down? If you didn’t _have_ to be strong all the time? What if we could make the world a little better, a little kinder, _more_ fair, for everyone? Wouldn’t you want to?”

Catra eyed him distastefully. “Ugh, you rebels are so pretentious,” Catra griped. “You’re _just_ like your daughter.”

It was Micah's turn to balk. Catra winced as she realized what she had said.

“You _know_ Glimmer?” He cried, suddenly in her face, gripping her by the top of her arms. She leaned away, looking anywhere but at him.

“I- I mean, not- not really.”

“Please,” He begged fervently. “ _Please_ I know _nothing_ about her, about my _own daughter_ , and I think about her _all the time_ , and I just- if you know something about her, _anything_ , _please tell me_.”

Seeing the desperate, almost wild look in his eyes, Catra couldn’t find it in herself to deny him.

“Uh, she’s- she’s kinda... short, and her hair is pink and… sparkly?” Catra floundered for something even _neutral_ to say. She wasn’t used to thinking of the princess in good terms, had never tried nor wanted to, but telling him her true feelings about his daughter seemed mean beyond even her. “And she’s… tough.”

Catra surprised herself with the sincerity in the statement, and in the further description that followed. “Not to give any credit to your princesses but I’ve seen her fight while her powers were screwed up and she was _good_ , and- and she’s always down for a fight which I _kinda_ respect,” She admitted. “And she’s _annoyingly_ persistent, and _sarcastic_ , and I guess she’s... cute? And- and it seems like she’s a… really good friend...”

Catra sighed. “Which I guess is why Adora chose her over me.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Glimmer and- and everyone in the rebellion they’re so, ha, sappy. And… good, and _noble_. Adora was always _like that_ , she always _cared_ too much, way more than I did.”

“Argh, I should’ve just- I should’ve just gone with her. I shouldn’t have been such an _idiot_ ,” Catra erupted, gripping at her hair as she curled in on herself. “She _asked_ me to come but _nooo_ , I just _had_ to be jealous and selfish and- and I _hurt_ her, even though she was my- my best friend and she was always so good to me,” Catras voice broke as tears started to fill her eyes.

“And now I’m _here_ , and I’m never going to see her again or get to tell her that- that I’m _sorry_ , and that I love her and I missed her so m-much it _hurt_ ,” She sobbed. “And Scorpia! She’s probably _still_ looking for me because she’s just _like that_ , she’s just _nice_ , and I don’t know why because I was _so mean_ to her too.”

“And I’m going to rot here,” She said with a harsh finality. “ _Just_ like I said Shadow Weaver would, and it’s my own fault, and maybe- maybe this is what I deserve,” She concluded, wrapping her arms around herself as she bowed her head, pain and self hatred washing over her as she found herself unable to blame Glimmer, or anyone else, for the mess that was her life anymore, and without a scapegoat was faced with the fact that everything that happened to her had been her own fault all along.

She felt a finger under her chin, tilting her head up. Through wet eyes she saw Micah in front of her. His hand moved from her chin to brush away the tears on her cheeks, his touch feather light and slow so as not to startle her.

“This is _not_ what you deserve,” He said resolutely. “You made some mistakes, and hurt some people, but most everyone has. And maybe I’m wrong but I think you probably had some pretty good reasons for doing what you did, and this-” He gestured to the cell around them, shaking his head. “Is not what you deserve for it, you deserve the chance to make it right, because you’re not a bad person. I’ve known bad people, and you? You’re not one of them.”

Catra sniffled. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what I’ve done,” She said.

“I don’t,” He agreed reasonably. “But I know that you’re _nineteen_ , and you were raised by a terrible, power hungry person, in an awful, cruel environment, and you were hurt, and you were scared, and that right now you’re upset because you regret the choices you made, and all of that, to me, sounds like someone who is good inside.”

He laid his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing away more tears from across her cheekbone. And this time when Catra sobbed it felt like it was opening a space for a kind of relief she hadn’t felt in a very, very long time to flood in.

 

Catra was woken by a hand shaking her shoulder.

Micah leaned over her with a brightness in his eyes.

“What?” She grumbled, displeased with being awake in the middle of the night.

Micah grinned wickedly.

“We’re getting out of here.”

* * *

 

To Glimmer the mural of her father in the hallway was just another of the many pieces of art that filled the castle walls. She knew her mom went there often, that she felt some kind of pull to the painting and found comfort in it, but Glimmer never had. It was just color on stone, its features indistinct and impersonal.

But that night, as Glimmer dragged her sore, tired body to her bedroom after the battle for her home she found herself pausing in front of the mural, stepping closer.

She looked both ways down the hall to make sure no one was around, and, feeling silly, she whispered, “Hi dad.”

She reached out, touching the painted hand that held her dads staff. She reached into thin air beside her and felt the weight of the real weapon settle in her hand. “Mom gave this to me,” She said, running her fingers over the sorcerers guild badge at the top of the shaft. “She said… she said that it’s time I have it.”

Glimmer shrugged. “The Princess Alliance is back together, and we fought really hard to protect the kingdom and I know… I know you’d be happy but… I guess it doesn’t feel right,” She sighed. “I’m not- I’m not _you_. You would have known what to _do_ , you wouldn’t have been scared. I was _so_ scared.”

She leaned her forehead against the hard stone of the wall, barely reaching the paintings stomach. “I really thought we were going to lose, when I was glitching, and mom was trying to keep the Moonstone lit and it went _dark-_ I thought it was over,” She said, her voice wavering. “I wish- I wish you were there, I wish,” She looked at the staff in her hands. “I wish _you_ had this, I don’t want it because I want _you_ to have it.”

Glimmer let herself slide to the floor, back against the feet of the mural. “But…” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to use it, and I hope I can… make you proud, dad. I hope you would be proud.”

She tilted her head back, looking up at the art towering over her just like her dad used to tower over her when she was little.

After some time Glimmer pulled herself to her feet and faced the painting once more, straightening her shoulders and lifting the staff, and tried to prepare herself for whatever was coming next.

 

It was impossible. Breaking out of Beast Island was unheard of. Every plan they came up with had dozens of flaws. One false move and they would be killed.

But Micah was determined and well, Catra wasn’t going to let him escape and leave her behind.

When she asked why he wanted to escape - after fourteen years in captivity, after many cellmates that would have been just as capable of helping him break out as she was, he answered:

“I want to see my wife, and my daughter. Hearing about her, what you told me- I need to, I need to be _with_ her, and I want to go _home_ ,” He said, more serious then Catra had ever heard him before. “And I want you to come with me, I want you to get the chance to make things right.”

They strategized. They talked through ideas until Catras brain hurt, they drew maps in the dirt on the floor. Catra insisted on giving part of her meals to Micah as he had for her to build his strength for the amount of magic he was going to use.

And finally they had a plan. They knew their moves down to the second. They had repeated it to each other time and time again to make sure they were ready.

Catra knew her role, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure she could perform it.

The night before they were to execute their escape Micah led her through their scheme again, and every time they got to her part she heard Shadow Weavers voice in her head, hissing, calling her _incompetent, disappointment, disgraceful._ She heard Hordaks deep, rational tone, _pathetic, failure, worthless_. She thought of all her failed attempts at defeating She-Ra, of all the times she came in second in training, of all the times she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t quick enough, and she became seized with fear.

“And when the guard comes you will…?”

Catra knew the answer but she couldn’t make the words form. She looked at Micah with panic in her eyes, her breath starting to come in quick gasps. “I can’t,” She said, sounding choked.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “C’mon, we’ve gone through this a million times, you will…?”

“No!” Catra exclaimed, jerking away from his touch. “You don’t understand, I _can’t_! I can’t do it, I’m going to mess it up, I’m going to get us _killed_.”

“You’re not,” He said calmly, reassuringly. “You know what to do, we worked this around _our_ strengths, we’re going to be fine.”

“Micah, you don’t know- I’m a screw up, okay?” Catra said. “My plans never go right, _nothing_ I do _ever_ goes right. If we do this- if _I’m_ part of this, we’re both going to die and you’re- you’re never going to get out of here.”

“Catra, I’m not leaving you, either both of us go or neither of us,” Micah said firmly, gripping her shoulder again, and this time she didn’t pull away. “You’re scared, I’m scared too. But what’s on the other side of that fear- what's waiting for us when we get out of here, it’s worth trying to get to. We can do this, but we have to do it together. I believe in you. Now you have to _believe in yourself_.”

Catra searched his face for any uncertainty, but he was unwavering and his eyes were sure.

Catra trusted Micah, more then she had trusted anyone in a very long time. And if he said he believed in her, even if she couldn’t believe in herself in that moment, who was she not to trust him in that too.

* * *

 

Adora had never had a picnic before, so Bow and Glimmer took it upon themselves to take her on one.

With a basket packed with finger foods from the palace chef in hand they made their way into the Whispering Woods, Glimmer in the lead because she knew the perfect spot for a picnic - even though she hadn’t been there since she was much younger.

It was a clearing where the tree branches parted enough overhead to let in the warm daylight, and the sound of a small river somewhere behind the trees nearby mixed with the birdsong. At that time of year the grass was dotted with yellow and white flowers and the dew from the morning had already dried when they laid out their blanket.

She remembered when her dad would bring her there, carrying her on his shoulders through the forest she felt so high up she thought she might have been able to touch the leaves, and when they got to the clearing they would sit in the grass for hours - sometimes just the two of them while other times her mom would come along as well, and it felt like a whole different world from the palace.

Her dad would tell her which birds made which chirps and point out the bright flashes of their colorful wings to her as they flew between branches. They would play hide and seek in between the trunks and her dad would let her find him just so she could have her turn hiding again. He would sing silly songs and Glimmer would pick flowers to give to her mom, and her dad would always bring a special treat from the kitchen for them to share - a cupcake or a piece of chocolate or a handful of Glimmers favorite cookies.

Glimmer had so many memories of him laughing with the light coming through the trees dotting his face and sitting barefoot in the grass and the sound of his voice calling to her through the woods.

Spreading out their meal with Bow and Adora, Glimmer was glad she could share the clearing with people she loved just as much as her dad.

 

Catra was so disoriented she thought she might have blacked out.

She had teleported before while being held hostage by Glimmer, but teleporting with sorcerers magic was a whole different feeling that left her shivering on the ground trying to tell if her arms and legs were still in the right places because she couldn’t feel them any more.

When she started to come back to herself the first thing she noticed was grass beneath her hands and knees, a gentle breeze on her skin, and air that smelled vaguely of the ocean. Her heart sped up as she blinked to clear her vision, desperate to confirm what she wanted so badly to believe.

They had succeeded. They were _out_.

They had escaped Beast Island.

Looking around for Micah she was confused when she found him standing a few feet away, his back to her and his head tilted like he was looking up into the tree branches of the forest they had landed in.

Catra shakily got up and went to his side, finding that was exactly what he was doing, his eyes the size of the morning moon and darting as he followed the birds flitting above them.

He dropped to his knees, running his hands through the grass and digging his fingers into the soil, beginning to make a sound that Catra wasn’t sure was laughing or crying.

“We did it,” He breathed. He whirled around to look at her with an expression full of joy. “We did it!”

He jumped back to his feet and the next thing Catra knew she was in his arms.

She tensed, unprepared for the sudden physical affection and unused to it from anyone but Adora or Scorpia, but as he held her, her head tucked under his chin and his arms around her tight and grounding, she began to relax, and as she kept breathing in the fresh air and wiggled her toes in the dirt she gave her own bubbling laugh.

They had really made it.

Catra wrapped her arms around Micah in return.

* * *

 

Glimmer had just teleported down the steps to her moms throne after saying goodbye when two figures appeared in the doorway of the castle, their features cast into shadow from the midday light coming in the entrance behind them.

One of the newcomers stopped under the doors arch, still obscured in darkness, as the other continued inside. Behind her Glimmer heard her mom give a strangled gasp. Glimmer started to turn but Angella was already rushing past her, feet barely touching the floor and wings flapping to propel her forward faster.

“Micah!” She cried raggedly.

The man ran towards her, catching her as she flew into his chest and pulling her into him as if he couldn’t hold her close enough, tears starting to fall with a smile so big it looked like it must have made his cheeks hurt.

Glimmers mind felt hazy as she crossed the room, barely aware of her own steps. It didn’t make sense, he couldn’t be...

“How are you- this isn’t real, this- this- you-” Her mom spluttered, so far gone from her regular composure. Her hands hovered near Micahs face as if wanting to touch but afraid that if she did he would burst into smoke.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He promised, grabbing her hands and bringing them to rest on either side of his face. Looking at her his eyes somehow softened even more and he pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

And then his gaze drifted over her head.

“Glimmer,” He whispered.

Angella pulled back, looking to her as well and letting go of Micah so he could make his way to her, each step slow and purposeful.

Glimmer tried to match the man in front of her to her memories that always seemed fuzzy from time and being remembered through child's eyes. Her dad had been tall, with dark hair and a closely groomed beard and eyes that always seemed to be laughing.

Now his hair had grayed, and his beard was scruffy and longer than before. Glimmer had grown up, and while he still stood at least a foot taller than her he wasn’t as huge as he had once seemed. His eyes looked tired, and his face was gaunt and aged with wrinkles.

“My little angel,” He mumbled in awe, reaching out to trace her jaw with the very tips of his fingers.

The words were like a shock sent through her system. The loving nickname she hadn’t heard in almost longer then she could remember bringing recognition.

“Daddy,” She sobbed.

He accepted her into his arms, his hands running over her hair and her back and her shoulders as if he couldn’t believe he was holding her. Glimmer almost couldn’t believe it herself.

Her mom joined them, wrapping an arm around Micahs waist.

“How are you here?” She asked, shaking her head as she scanned his face, a hand coming up to touch a piece of hair that curled on his shoulder.

“It’s a long story,” His laugh boomed in Glimmers ear with her head against his chest and _oh_ , that laugh was so familiar. “I’ll tell you everything but right now I just- I just want to see you - by Etheria you’re just as beautiful as ever,” He said, reaching up to cup her moms face tenderly.

Angella giggled. _Giggled._ Glimmer was stunned that that sound could even come from her mom.

“And you,” He said, holding Glimmer at arms length. She smiled, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Are more gorgeous than I could have imagined, _look_ at you, you look _just_ like your mom.”

“I think she looks like you,” Angella disagreed lightly at his side, studying Glimmer along with him. Glimmer felt herself blushing under the scrutiny so instead of standing there she teleported back into his arms.

“Whoa-” He laughed, stumbling slightly. “Look at you go! When I last saw you you could barely control your teleports!”

“There’s so much I have to show you,” Glimmer said, her head spinning as it began to catch up with reality. Her dad was there, and she had fourteen years worth of things she wanted to share with him.

“I can’t wait to see everything,” He said.

Glimmer had completely forgotten about anyone else's presence until, off to the side of the room, Adoras voice growled:

“ _Catra_.”

 

Catra had held back in the shadow of the palaces giant doorway, giving Micah the chance to have his long awaited reunion with his family without interruption, and giving herself some time to try to quell the anxiety in her chest.

Apologies, she had never been good at them.

Adora stood in the throne room, her blonde hair golden in the light streaming in and her eyes gentle as she watched the happy family. Seeing her Catra felt her chest ache with a longing that she could only describe as a desire to go _home_ \- she wanted to collapse into those strong arms that had held her, comforted her, were always open to her their entire lives. She wanted to curl up at the foot of Adoras bed, no matter where that bed was, and feel her warmth beside her while she slept. She wanted Adora, she wanted her best friend.

But she worried that she might not get any of that, that maybe Adora couldn’t forgive her, that she had been happier when Catra had been gone, that she had changed her mind after so long and didn’t want Catra to come with her any more.

Catra watched Micah smiling with the queen hanging on his arm and Glimmer buried in his chest and found herself smiling despite her own fears. _He deserves this_ , the sentimental thought took her by surprise.

But Adora was eyeing her then, her expression hardening as she realized who it was. Catra tensed in preparation.

“ _Catra_.”

Everyone in the throne room spun to look at her, pulling various weapons. Adora drew the sword from her back. Standing in front of her father as if to protect him Glimmer summoned a ball of light to each hand.

So much for not interrupting Micahs family time.

Micah looked around in alarm of everyone's reaction and Catra cringed. She had warned him that she wouldn’t be welcome in Brightmoon and despite his optimism that everything would be fine it seemed she had been right.

Catra stepped out of the doorway. “Hey, Adora,” She said, her voice slightly sheepish. “Long time no see.”

“What are you doing here?” Adora asked, her expression guarded, but her eyes flickering over Catras body with a strange urgency.

Micah placed a hand on Glimmers shoulder as he stepped around her to go to Catra, pulling her forward with an arm around her back. “Guys, this is Catra,“ He said, and if she hadn’t been so nauseous with fear it might have been funny being introduced to people she had tried to kill multiple times.

“We know who she is,” Glimmer snarled, not taking her eyes off Catra. “This is your fault, isn’t it? What did you do with him?”

Catra had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the accusation. Glimmer bristled. “Okay, first of all, Sparkles, I was the same age as you when he was taken so unless you think five year old me was holding hostages-”

“Hey, hey, everyone calm down,” Micah soothed. “She’s with me, she helped me get off Beast Island, if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be here.”

“Is that where…” The queen gasped before a hand flew up to cover her mouth.

Glimmer didn’t drop her fighting stance, still glaring at Catra with animosity, but Adora softened, the point of her sword tipping almost to the floor.

“Catra, were you... Are you alright?” She asked, no longer looking reserved but filled with concern, her eyebrows knit low over her eyes with a small crease in between them like she always got when she was worried.

The question and the care caught Catra off guard, her defensive hostility falling away as she stammered, “I… yeah?”

Adora surged forward suddenly, sword clattering as it dropped on the floor behind her, and she wrapped her arms around Catras neck.

Catra blinked, frozen, as she found herself with her face buried in blonde hair and the smell of Adora in her nose and the familiar feeling of her body wrapped around hers.

“We didn’t see you for _months_ ,” Adora whispered, her hand bunching up the back of Catras shirt in a fist as she clung to her. “I thought- I was so scared that-”

Tears stung Catras eyes. Adora had noticed she was gone, more then noticed, she had been _worried_. And now she was hugging her as if nothing had ever changed between them, as if they were still kids in the Horde.

“I love you,” She spoke into Adoras shoulder, the words she had thought she would never get to say to her pouring from her mouth now that she was there. “I love you, you’re my best friend and I shouldn’t have- have ever hurt you, I shouldn’t have been so _stupid_. I’m sorry, I missed you so much, I’m sorry,” Her voice trembled along with the rest of her body. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Adora said back, surprise clear in her voice but not a touch of uncertainty. “Hey, what _happened_ to you?” She asked, leaning back to look Catra in the face.

Micah, who had stepped aside to give them space and was now once again holding Glimmer and Angella in each arm interrupted. “I think we all have a lot to discuss,” He said reasonably. “But there’s plenty of time for that, and I haven’t had a real meal in fourteen years, how about we eat, and we can tell you everything.”

“Micah, are you sure about this?” Angella asked quietly, looking at Catra doubtfully.

“I’m sure,” He said with a confident smile at Catra. “Give her a chance, I know you’ll all love her like I do.”

Catra started, the words echoing in her head. _You’ll all love her like I do._

_Love._

And he said it as if it wasn’t a big deal, already leading Glimmer and Angella down a hallway deeper into the castle, leaving Catra staring after him.

She thought about Shadow Weaver, and Hordak, and the approval and _love_ she had so desperately wanted from them only for it to always end it pain, and realized that she had found it in the most unexpected of places, when it had felt like her life was over, and in the most unexpected person.

**Author's Note:**

> So it's pure coincidence that I'm posting this on Fathers Day but it's about a father anyway so I guess it was good timing!  
> I've been working on this since season 2 aired. It's a bit different from my usual stuff so it was kind of a challenge but I finally feel happy with it, so I hope you guys enjoyed!  
> My tumblr is bookwormpride.tumblr.com if you wanna check it out


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